


The Things I Do For You

by PreciselyVex (CrashEdit)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Bloodplay, Face Slapping, Handcuffs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Romance, Scarification, Straight Razors, Threats of Violence, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 17,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashEdit/pseuds/PreciselyVex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Blood and fire and bullets and tears, bruises and bombs and broken glass -- these were the only things that held dominion over James Moriarty. Even the tiniest drop of Sebastian's blood was enough to spark Jim's fantasies, and the moment he'd realized that was the moment that Seb knew he'd be bleeding tonight…</i><br/>This little piece of fucked-up, Omegle-inspired insanity is presented as a joint effort of <b>PerverselyVex (SEB)</b> and the amazing <b>iShaddix (JIM)</b> (who does not have an AO3 account - yet- but will be properly credited as a co-author as soon as she does!)</p><p>It was written in a mad, manic dash over the course of just 10 days & nights -- from Monday, September 23rd (2:36pm) through Thursday, October 3rd (3:15am). Almost 18,000 words in a week and a half, written by two strangers, and shared via e-mail! </p><p>In the end, I knew I had to post this for you filthy little lovelies to read, so with Shaddix’s permission, that’s just what I've done!</p><p>**No Beta, No Britpick!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JIM & SEB

**That slap went straight to my cock, boss. SM**

**Shocker. Next you’ll be telling me that fire burns. JM**

**All I’m saying is that I’ve spent the last six hours in this fucking car and I’m still hard. SM**

**…and? JM**

**I was kind of hoping you’d do something about it. SM**

**A bit tricky from here, love. Besides, I’ve got better things to do. How was the dropoff? Everything go as planned? JM**

**Yeah, aces. The new driver’s good. Got me in and out quickly. SM**

**Filthy little Sebby, already in and out of my new favorite driver? I’m jealous. I haven’t even had a turn yet. JM**

**Fuck you, boss, you know that isn’t what I meant. SM**

**Although he is fit, isn’t he? SM**

**And just my type, really. SM**

**If I didn’t know any better, I’d think… SM**

**… that I hired him for you? How adorable. No. JM**

**Well, since you’ve got “better things to do”, maybe he can help take care of my current…situation. SM**

**Try it and I’ll bury you both in a shallow grave. Now, where are you? JM**

**Not far. Fifteen minutes out, maybe? SM**

**Get here in five and I might let you cum. JM**

**Fifteen minute trip down to five? Bit impossible, innit? SM**

**Make it possible, or you won’t be allowed to cum at all. JM**

**Hardly fair. I’m not the one behind the wheel. SM**

**That’s what makes it fun, Sebby. You’re completely out of control. Again. JM**

**If I do make it home in time, will you hit me again? SM**

**If you make it home in time, I promise to hit you so hard, the bruises will last until New Year’s. JM**

**In the meantime, no touching yourself. JM**

**And no touching the driver, either. JM**

**Four minutes. Tick tock…JM**

**Jesus, boss, just kill me now, why don’t you? SM**

 

**Must you be so over dramatic, Sebastian? If I was planning on killing you, my favourite driver would have a gun to your head right now. However, if you don't hurry up this second, you may find yourself dead on the doorstep. Oh, and when you get in, strip for me before you get into the bedroom. There's a good lad. JM**

 

** **


	2. SEB

**Coming up now, longest car ride of my life. Just crossed the doorstep, so too late to kill me now, you little shit. SM**

Sebastian took the steps two at a time, all the way up the three flights of stairs to Jim's bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, leaving his trousers and shoulder holster for last. He arrived in the bedroom breathless, a sheen of sweat over his chest and back, cock hard and bobbing at first sight of Jim on the bed.

"Hi, Boss," he said, giving his cock a few hard strokes before Jim could say otherwise. "Miss me?"


	3. JIM

Jim didn't even bother with an answer to the last text, figuring it pointless if Sebby was already in the house and on his way up. Would have been a rather amusing game to lean out the window and keep his promise of shooting him, but he hadn't taken that long in all fairness, so he let him be. Instead, he placed his phone on the bedside table just in case, then lounged back rather happily, slowly teasing the tips of his fingers over his hard cock, shivering in delight, even giving a faint moan when he knew Sebastian was in earshot. But when the man finally stepped through the doorway, Jim stopped to look up at him, bared just like he'd asked, and he really hadn't been lying about how hard he was. "What do you think, darling?" He quipped back, petting the free space beside him on the bed before shifting to sit up and taking in his hand the new plug Sebastian had gotten him, a slightly cruel smirk upon his lips, "Hurry up, Sebby, wouldn't want to keep us both waiting any more, would you?


	4. SEB

Sebastian slid into bed beside Jim, virtually vibrating with want. The little shit was posing and preening exactly as Seb had imagined him in his mind's eye, right down to the his predictably unpredictable shifts between feigned innocence and unabashed lechery. Seb imagined how easy it would be to take the small man down, to physically take what he wanted and be done with him for once and for all, but the bitch of the thing is that Sebastian could never take what he wanted from Jim because what he wanted _was_ Jim -- his brand of crazy, his name calling, his perverse pleasure, his commitment to Seb's inevitable undoing, over and over again.

He eyed Jim for one quiet second and then charged him with a growl, pinning Jim beneath him, tugging on his hair and stroking his jaw with one, strong hand before hungrily biting into his mouth, knowing full well he risked punishment. But experience had taught Sebastian that it was easier, in most cases, even in Jim's cases, to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. 

And besides, after being hours of teasing, Jim's mouth felt _so fucking good_ crushed beneath his...


	5. JIM

Even when Sebastian moved into the bed with him, James sat perfectly still and patient, a trait he very rarely chose to call upon. A single, perfectly arched eyebrow lifted slightly in expectance, a challenge burning within his dark gaze. He wanted his sniper to do something, try what he usually might not, because that was what he was like when he was desperate. And God it was fun. 

What came was something Jim hadn't exactly been prepared for, especially after having the blonde begging to be fucked before he had arrived, but it was never out of the question, this roughness. They were never gentle with each other, never choosing to bestow loving kisses or soft touches. The reason why they were both so hopelessly addicted. It was pleasure at its core; raw and fuelled by a carnal need. The reason why Jim didn't protest being pushed down, and instead surged back with rough nips upon his sniper's lips, forcing into a kiss, all tongues and teeth, both trying to gain dominance over the other. But while one hand found its way into Sebastian's scruffy locks, Jim reached over with his free hand to fish out a pair of handcuffs he'd slipped under the covers for a moment like this. And with a simple movement, he clicked one of the cuffs round Sebastian's wrist, smirking gleefully as he pulled away. "Get on your back. Now," the criminal growled, easily taking his control back, control that he never really lost, not truly. Even if he ever did let Sebby fuck him, he would always be the one in control, and he doubted they would have it any other way.


	6. SEB

Motherfucker, should have known, Seb thought, as the cool steel clamped around his wrists. The tackle had been too easy, and nothing about Jim was ever easy. That eyebrow should have told him something, and that bloody smirk...

Of course, he was right where he wanted to be, if he was being honest with himself. He just never wanted to make it too easy for Jim. Easy is boring, innit? Easy is lying on your back when boss says so, without struggling, at least a little, first. Then you can roll over like the little bitch you pretend not to be and take that painfully large plug like the man that you really are.

He rattled his chains, bucking his hips whenever Jim came close, the very scent of him sending Sebby to a raw place. He was so tired of waiting...and he thought about the slap that had started him going this morning.

"You promised me something in your text, Jim, have you forgotten?" He looked up into Jim's dark eyes, a cavalier request for something so goddamned humiliating...


	7. JIM

With Seb listening like a good little pet and doing as he wished, Jim had decided against taking it easy on him. It was all fun and games when he tried to be naughty and fought against his own control, but with him just rolling over on command...well, it wasn't exactly his best move. The second cuff was soon in place, chain looped round a spoke on the headboard and metal cuff clicked into place round Sebastian's wrist. Always just tight enough to ensure he would rub his wrists raw if he pulled too much. Didn't want to make things too good for him.

With Sebastian in position, though, Jim could move over him properly, grinning at each shift he made to try and edge closer, amused by his oh so obvious need. Safe to say he avoided them all, and only when he felt he should did he let his fingers trace over a few of the man's scars, traveling down his body. He could see him straining with every inch of skin caressed closer to his cock, see how Sebby needed it. But when he got there, Jim avoided that first touch, fingers trailing down to his thighs instead. "I think you may have to refresh my memory on that one, Sebby. Which promise are you referring to?" Jim teased, his words soft and light, though the rather sadistic gleam to his gaze told everything that wasn't said. Oh just how much he wished to make his sniper moan out for him. And with a smirk, Jim leaned down to ever so gently press his lips in a faint kiss to the head of Sebastian cock, gaze never leaving his, "Tell me, sweetie."


	8. SEB

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of Rape

Sebastian's breath hitched in his throat when Jim's lips made contact with his cock, and even that light touch sent him - well, that, paired with Jim's eyes locked to his, watching with amusement.

"For fuck's sake, boss, please..." he struggled, trying to resist the desire to ram his cock into that wet little mouth, vicious and perfect and oh, so talented. He remembered the last time Jim had sucked him (after the factory explosion, before Prague, in the alleyway), that throat opening up for him so seamlessly. He never choked, like Seb did, never gagged -- and Seb wasn't a small man. Impressive. Made Seb wonder how he got to be such a good fucking cocksucker. The very thought made him groan, imagining him being forced, being throatfucked against his will. The sickly thought stayed with him, imagining Jim's screams. 

This shouldn't turn him on, but it does.

The thought of being raped, himself, shouldn't turn him on, but it does.

That night, after the factory explosion, after the blowjob, Jim had bent him over the hood of the car and fucked his ass until Sebastian begged him to stop. Actual, for real begging, borne of blood and torn flesh and bruises rising beneath welts that would never heal without scarring. 

He thinks of the slap this morning, punishment for no reason - a backhanded slap to your cheek, delivered just because Jim wanted to see if the bruise would first emerge as purple or green. 

He'd hit so hard, you'd actually seen stars, and your testicles had tried to fly north for the winter. But your cock and your brain saw things differently. 

They wanted more.

You thought of the factory explosion, of Jim's potentially tragic cocksucking backstory, and of the way begging feels when you mean it.  

The sniper pulled against his restraints, making them cut into his flesh. 

 

"Hit me boss. Please." 


	9. JIM

Jim knew exactly what Sebastian was thinking as soon as he saw just how intently he was watching him. He wasn't exactly a hard man to read. In fact, he was one of the easiest. The army had taught him to keep a good hold on his emotions in a vulnerable situation, but then he had gone AWOL, and Jim had always had a way of making even the strongest of men crumble. So Sebastian was simple; his eyes, as cliched as it was, windows to his thoughts. So easy, yet never boring. Too full of emotion to be boring, changing every second, yet never scared. The only one who wouldn't flinch when he laughed. 

And then came the true request, suggesting his sniper had given up on trying to hold on to the last shreds of his pride. Always so quick to do it too, as if he just couldn't wait. "Oh that one? Well, you know I can't deny you what you want," Jim cooed, still with the obviously faked, honied tone that was too sweet to be true. And that was the point. 

The criminal soon stood and made his way over to the cupboard, humming to himself -Beethoven, not that Sebby would ever know- while he rifled through their box until he could pull out what he wanted. His favourite in this area. Turning back to his sniper, Jim smiled a cruel smile, running the flat, leather end of the crop over his fingers, then slowly, carefully walking back to the bed. His eyes skimmed over Sebastian's body, stretched out for him, bared and so perfect. So willing it was untrue. The top of the crop made its was down Sebastian's stomach first, just ghosting over the tip of his arousal before Jim lifted it. "Make it loud, darling," was Jim's only warning before he brought the crop down upon his sniper's skin, harsh and unforgiving, smack in the centre of his chest, afterwards barking a simple, "Count them."


	10. SEB

Jim's smile told Seb all he needed to know about what would happen next, and the sight of that wicked fucking crop made Seb's stomach flip. Jim liked the crop, knowing the ways to twist it so that it would leave the most damage. Seb couldn't say he liked it, but he appreciated it's bite.  

He wished Jim would stroke his cock before he started, but it didn't work that way very often, the factory explosion notwithstanding. Jim liked to give pain before pleasure, if pleasure came at all.  

The first stroke was like an acid kiss, stinging at first, burning deeper as time went on. Sebastian ground his teeth together, and counted as Jim had insisted. Sebby rarely dropped his count - he wasn't an idiot, and he knew Jim listened like a hawk to catch any mistake. As the crop traced a pattern along his trunk, he stayed quiet, moaning only when he caught him with a particularly evil stroke on a soft spot or unexpected place. The soles of his feet, that was new, but thankfully, he didn't linger there. The inside of his thighs made him whimper. Jim's laugh made it worse. 

Seb was still hard when the crop came down on his cock - a light slap, but a slap nonetheless. Jim pursed his lips, studying the effect, whispering cruelties in Seb's ear. 

If anyone else called him the things Jim calls him, they'd be dead.

But its not as if Seb just tolerates the things Jim does to him.

He welcomes it, begs for it, because he likes it.

It's all part of being Jim's right hand man, his ready sniper, Daddy's stupid fuckslut, all part of the package.

The bruise on his cheek rose purple, for what its worth, and Jim decorated the rest of Sebby's body in stripes of red and pink. 


	11. JIM

Each time Sebastian moved, tensed, or even thought of missing his count, Jim was there with another blow in quick succession. He was there to teach him, after all, show him how to be a good pet. And in the end, he would be, because it was obvious; he couldn't get enough of this. And that was the ultimate aphrodisiac for the criminal mastermind, knowing that he had such power over this man. The man that could hit a target from miles away, London's most legendary sniper, and the one who could break him so easily if he wanted. He never would though. Because they needed each other. They would play with the fire, dance along the edge of danger, but they would never truly hurt one another. That wasn't how their games were played. 

And though this game was excellent fun, and so very useful for his little bank of information on the body's reactions to pain, Jim stopped after around twenty. Or twenty two to be exact. Turn the second two around and they would form a heart. And that was the most sentiment Sebastian should expect, as mocking as it was meant to be. Though he knew twenty was usually the sniper's limit before he began to waver, and began to beg. That definitely wasn't the time for that. No, that came later. "Oh don't you look a picture, my dear. You'll make such a wonderful little cockwhore when I'm through with you. I'm sure I could get a pretty price for you if you ever drove me to getting rid of you, then you could terrorise your new master to your heart's content." 

Jim spoke with a grin, but he would never get rid of his tiger. Not now, not ever. If he was going down in flames, Sebastian would be coming with him. "What now, pumpkin? Are you still wanting me to fill you just as you were begging for before we started, or would you like a turn at getting your own back? And don't worry, I'd let you. You're quite inventive when you want to be," Jim offered, crop tossed to the side as he sat beside his sniper, hand casually running up the blonde's thigh to finally grip his cock, stroking in long, almost lazy motions.


	12. SEB

The Sniper closed his eyes, the slip of Jim's hand around his cock centering him as the rest of his body thrummed along. 

The fiction of being sold or traded was one of Jim's favorite threats, and frankly, it was one of Seb's favorites as well. To be discarded easily at the whim of a psychopath, abandoned in a truck stop restroom, used as collateral in a card game. Absurd, fantastical, but always possible with Jim. James was dangerous, a criminal -- beautiful, rare, lethal and quick. 

He scrabbled for friction in the palm of Jim's hand.

"Oh, god, need it Jim...you feel how hard you make me? Nobody else makes me feel like this..." Sebby arched his back, slowly thrusting into Jim's fist, following his lazy lead. "Now....I could cum like this, if you'd let me, Daddy...but really, where would be the fucking fun in that?" . 

Jim's eyes snapped to attention. Seb's hips snapped faster into his hand. 

"I mean, your hand feels fucking good, boss, don't get me wrong, and I'd give my left tit to cum right now -- but handjobs always feel like getting fucked by a suburban housewife. And you, my friend, are anything but..." Seb leaned in as far as he could with the restraints still on, and bit at Jim's ear, whispering, "Release me now, boss, and we can fuck and fight like tigers all night..." 

He paused for effect. "...loser wears that plug until they're sloppy and gaping, whaddaya say?"


	13. JIM

Oh...Oh Sebby was getting such a brave little thing in his need. Finally growing a backbone too, it seemed, but Jim knew every word was meant to please him, to bring him round, because Sebastian knew better than to insult and upset him. He knew the consequences first hand, having leaned the hard way more times than either of them could remember. But now it seemed it was learning, and this definitely wasn't boring. It was almost expected though, his will to fight this act like a war second hand now, and Jim couldn't help but want to tease him with another idea. 

"How about I keep you in your restraints, my dear one? Then we could play with our new toy now, instead of later, see how good you've gotten at taking these things. I bet you would look so gorgeous filled and gaping for me, and your voice does sound so much nicer when it's used for begging me to stop." The grin upon Jim's lips only broadened as the thoughts crossed his mind, but, as wonderful as they were, he would rather, in that particular moment, get to fuck his sniper into submission himself, rather than torture the both of them with the plug. So instead, Jim moved his touch away from Sebastian's cock to easily press his shoulders back down as he leaned closer, lips finding the blonde's cheek in a teasing kiss. "Then again, you have been so very well behaved tonight. I'm sure I can give into you just once."

 It took mere seconds to have the cuffs unfastened, but before Seb could try and move his arms, one of Jim's hands forced his wrists back down, expecting him not to fight it even though he probably could. The criminal's lips travelled down so his breath ghosted against Sebby's ear, few faint nips following the soft, whispered challenge; "First one to beg and plead for it gets the plug, so do try to keep up."


	14. SEB

Jim's kiss on his cheek was sweet, but Seb knew that his boss didn't do sweet without a reason - and not just sweetness, but it came with a sugar coated compliment as well, a pat on a dog's back from its owner, good boy...

What was Jim up to?

He had to have a plan, hardly would have initiated this game without one, unlike Seb, whose lived the last few years in a state of improv, following Jim's manic path. He'd play it by ear, Seb would, and take his chances where he could find them.

The first chance came when the cuffs came off, but Jim was waiting for him to move then, hands gentle against his wrists, not restraining him, no, but warning him, reminding him that speed and size couldn't be counted on to win this game. But oh, how he wanted to pick Jim up, slam him against that wall, wrap Jim's legs around his hips and remind him that London's most legendary sniper was nobody's mongrel. Not even Jim's...

But he resisted. Sat back on the bed. Eyed Jim with a curious stare, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes. He offered one to Moriarty, and then lit one for himself. As he exhaled, he took a long, appraising look at his employer.

"New suit then?" he asked, staring lasciviously, eyes gone sleepy. He stood up before Jim could answer, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, and planted himself face to face with his very own criminal. He had the height advantage, certainly, and Jim had to crane his neck to keep eye contact. Seb ran a hand down Jim's lapel, admiring the workmanship. "Bespoke, tasteful...well worth the investment," he said, in a voice that was unexpectedly quiet and soft, "but ultimately, still a waste of money." His lips went to Jim's ear in that same, soft manner, his breath on his skin, hot and close. "You make a bigger impact without a single stitch on, boss, and that's for certain..."

Seb snaked a hand around Jim's silk tie and loosened it at the knot. He watched Jim swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as Seb slipped the fabric from around his neck entirely, and threw it onto the bed. "I do my share of begging and pleading, I'll admit that, but never underestimate me, Jim." he smiled, and rubbed a thumb along Jim's lower lip. "Remember: I'm the clever boy who worked his way into your confidence, into this house and into your bed. Clever because when everyone else saw a criminal, I saw a genius." 

Seb kissed him then, giving a lingering lick to that decadent lower lip, and then turned his heel and walked away from Jim, moving towards the bathroom.  

He stopped halfway and turned. "Are you coming, then?"

He didn't wait for an answer.


	15. JIM

As soon as the wish to move was made, Jim allowed it. He was playing good, being the gentle lover. Not to catch his sniper out, no, he was too good for that, but he had a much better idea in mind. It was rather amusing to see Sebby getting the idea and playing along though. So very smart he was, always happy to join him in whatever game he could think of. Probably why he would never wish to get rid of him. Nobody else was this much fun. 

The observation was met with a silent, flat stare. Jim's personal way of calling someone an idiot without even having to open his mouth. Something which he refrained from doing throughout Seb's little show off power. He just sat quietly on the bed, looking up at his sniper, the very hints of a smirk playing upon the corners of his lips. And despite the height difference, Jim still felt in control. Probably because he was, in a way. Sebastian knew his limits, and though he would try to push them, the balance of power would never truly tip. Another statement to his sniper that not everything was about brute strength. But knowing he could control that strength, that such lethal hands could fall in such gentle touches upon his skin, that's what had his throat bobbing, forcing back a spike of lust that threatened to run down his spine, threatened to cloud his mind, if only for a second. He needed to be alert for this. He would only win if he could keep himself under control 

But then the touch moved. A thumb, then lips, warm and horrifically gentle. Jim followed though, still playing the good boy. Even allowing Sebastian to walk away when he wished. The question was met with a roll of dark eyes, but still, the criminal did as he was asked of. He suit jacket was removed first, neatly hung up in the wardrobe so it couldn't get ruined, then finally he followed, walking Sebastian's path to the bathroom and stopping in the doorway, leaning upon the frame, watching with a less than impressed expression. "Sebastian, surprisingly enough, I didn't unite you just so you could get washed," Jim spoke out loud, though he knew that was hardly Sebby's intention, "And as fun as you seem to think, having sex in the shower is incredibly overly cliched."


	16. SEB

"Who said anything about a shower?" 

Seb smirked, as he rifled through a cabinet. "Although you probably will want to take off the suit, wouldn't want to ruin it."

He opened several drawers until he found the one he wanted, finally pulling an old leather case from the very back, worn and dusty. "Ah, found it...my grandfather's, actually." Sebastian wiped it clean with a hand towel and presented it to Jim, standing close enough to him that he had to make a real effort not to bite into that indecent jawline...

He cleared his throat, and refocused. "You're right, Jim, showers are cliche. This is too - but it's a helluva lot more dangerous." He unzipped the small pouch with the reverence he usually reserved for quality firearms, and pulled out a thin, shining, silver straight razor.

"Were both in desperate need of a shave -- your call, of course..." Sebastian stroked Jim's cheek, roughing up the bit of scruff that had grown in since morning. "But one of us, at least, should go under the knife, don't you think?"


	17. JIM

As soon as the incredibly boring 'sex in the shower' was ruled out, Jim looked a lot more interested. Hell of a lot more interested in just about everything that Sebastian was doing, especially as he seemed to be set on messing up how the drawers in his bathroom were organised. Little bitch would pay for that. But in the meanwhile, Jim just watched with an expectant glance, smile slowly finding his lips when something was pulled out. Oh, and the little sweetie was kind enough to wipe it clean for him. How considerate. But any thought of mocking his sniper was soon gone when the contents of the case were revealed. 

And then, it was Jim's turn to grin in delight, swiftly taking the razor from Seb's hand and ever so gently running the tips of his fingers along the flat of the blade, then back up the edge, feeling how sharp it had stayed without use to blunt it. Wonderful. 

The touch to his cheek had Jim looking up again, and he smirked, leaning into it, actually regarding his sniper as something other than a useless idiot. "I think you are learning, my dear. Definitely learning." Leaning up, he just brushed his lips faintly against Sebby's then pulled away and backed off a few steps, looking down upon the blade once more. "It's your toy, Sebby, and I have had a turn at beating you senseless, so who would you rather get to play with it?" Looking up again, Jim held it out, a slightly more manic gleam to his eyes now that he knew what he had to look forward to.


	18. SEB

Jim's grin filled Seb's heart, in spite of everything, and he enjoyed seeing Jim play with the blade in his hands, twisting it, turning it, watching the way it caught the light. 

Never mind that he'd just given his psychopathic boyfriend a lethal weapon.

Never mind that he was considering baring his throat to him.

He flushed with the praise Jim gave him, even though it was backhanded as always, the kind of praise you give to a mentally deficient child with no real hope for advancement. Still, though, it was praise from Jim, and that was enough for Seb.

He'd expected Jim to be enthralled by the razor, of course, had been counting on it -- but he hadn't expected Jim to give up his right to choose his role. Letting Seb decide felt like a trap, and it sort of was. Hadn't that been why Seb had specifically conceded choice to Jim in the first place?

If Seb agreed to go under the knife himself, he risked Jim's inescapably close proximity and scrutiny, which could seriously undermine his chances of winning their little game -- not to mention possible disfigurement and potential death at the hands of a mad man, as well...

On the other hand, if he put Jim under the knife instead, Seb knew that all it would take would be one wrong move and he'd suffer the consequences of drawing Jim's blood, making this option just as potentially deadly.

And yet...the temptation to have Jim beneath him, squirming under grandad's razor, was delicious. Jim was easiest to control in tender moments, in quiet moments -- and it doesn't get much quieter than the moment someone passes a blade over another someone's throat. 

"We should both get to play, Jim." Seb said, generously, shifting selfish at the very end. "But I want you in the chair first."


	19. JIM

The only reason Jim ever gave out any praise was because he knew it would get him a good response. Whether it be undying loyalty, or something more along the lines of what Sebastian gave. And the way he reacted to it had the criminal feeling rather welcoming to whatever eventuality he would finally decide on. Well, only if it meant he would get a turn at some point. He wasn't going to let Seb have all the fun. 

But, in the end, it seemed his sniper truly was learning about how to behave around his betters, and knowing that keeping his calm with something like this was going to be rather simple, Jim easily gave into it. With a nod of his head, he handed the razor back and turned with a smile, walking back towards the bedroom. On the way, he unfastened the buttons of his shirt and let it fall on the bed, forgotten about in a instant. Instead, his attention fell to the chair by the desk at the other side of the room. Perfect. 

"Oh Sebby, darling," he called out in a sickly sweet tone, "Hurry up and bring your things along. I'd much rather do it in here." With the chair pulled out, Jim took a seat facing the door, extensive black leather cool against the exposed skin of his back, but it all just added to the sensation and anticipation. He had one leg neatly resting atop the other, sitting as proudly as if he truly was the king he had claimed himself to be.


	20. SEB

Sebastian ran hit water in the tap until it steamed, dropping in a clean white towel, and adding some water to the shaving mug, leaving the brush to soak. From where he stood, he could peek at Jim through the crack in the door, and he looked so pleased with himself, the little bastard, Seb couldn't wait to begin.

But there was a procedure to follow, steps to ensure a good shave and the safety of his Boss and the Best Fuck He'd Ever Had. This would be done by the book, there could be no room for error, otherwise funtime could be cut short, and that was the last thing Seb wanted. What he wanted plenty of time to linger and frustrate the man in the leather chair, so he'd follow the Granddad rules...

Seb brought the hot towel in to Jim, settling it over his face gingerly to soften his whiskers and open up his pores. Of course there were complaints. It was either going to be too hot or too cold for not-so-Goldilocks here, but it had been cool enough that Seb's fingers hadn't been harmed carrying it into the bedroom, so he knew he was fine.   

"Hush, Jim -- try and enjoy it, you big baby."

The towel wound around his face, and was supposed to stay there until it cooled. Seb decided to take advantage of the pause in action to start some trouble, and he leaned in to stroke Jim through his trousers. Jim's eyes flew open, his words muffled by the towel, but the message was clear.

Seb shrugged, and removed his hands. "Just trying to relax you, Boss, while we wait." 

Jim quieted, closed his eyes again, and sighed. 

Feeling Jim's cock in his hands had felt so good that Seb stroked himself, taking advantage of Jim's currently limited field of vision. He couldn't get too carried away -- after all, this was about making Jim beg, not making himself cum. But he needed to be bitingly hard for this next bit, so he rallied himself with a few firm pulls, goddamn...

In the bathroom, Seb grabbed the mug, the brush and the shaving soap, making a lather. It smelled like men, like history, like back rooms where deals were made long ago. He took a stack of thick white towels from the shelf, and the leather kit bag with the razor. 

Jim's eyes were still closed, but he roused when Seb came in. Sebastian set up his gear on the table beside the chair, and pulled the now-cool towel from his face, revealing warm pink Jim flesh, and Seb took a moment to rub a hand down that fucking jawline, ostensibly to appraise the softness of his whiskers, but that wasn't the only reason why he did it. Sometimes he just needed to touch him, to feel his skin alive beneath him

Sebastian has been pleased by Jim's choice of chair: sturdy, leather, open arms. A vast improvement over the one Seb had planned to use, the one in the bathroom, which was narrower and far more flimsy.

"Feeling good, Jim?" Seb asked pleasantly, spinning the brush around in the mug before gently dropping down into Jim's lap, long legs straddling the shorter man's waist. He smiled as Jim whined, predictably, the whining coming to a miraculous stop the moment Seb leaned forward to apply the lather. 

The move pressed his hips forward, pressing Seb's naked body against Jim's partially clothed one, pressing his hard cock firmly against Jim's reluctantly rising one. Seb shifted, looking into Jim's eyes, and smiled, rocked against him, and then stroked his eyebrows, one at a time, with the flat of his thumb. Jim was beautiful, but the kind of beautiful that grew the more you looked at him. The rare kind of beautiful that Seb didn't want to destroy.

Seb kissed him softly, tasting his last cup of tea of his lips, and then began lathering on the soap over his wet skin in slow circles. He was generous with the thick creamy foam, covering Jim's neck, under his ears, and the tricky spot under his nose. Seb rolled his hips as the soap soaked in, bracing himself against the back of the chair, and he found Jim was now as hard as he was, with little gasps escaping his lips.

Sebastian reached for the leather kit. Inside was a strop, but as Jim had already noted, it wasn’t needed yet -- the blade was already sharp. Seb by-passed it for the razor, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He tested it against the pad of his own forefinger, and blood bloomed quickly. 

"Look, Jim - I'm bleeding." He said, showing Jim the bright red spot. Seb stuck the finger in his mouth, tasting copper. "Sharp. Best be careful."


	21. JIM

The wait was near torture for Jim, too much for his liking. While at first simply watching was rather fun, it was soon a hassle, forcing him to bite his tongue to not shout at his dear tiger. Didn't want to upset him too much. Not when there was going to be a blade at his throat, anyway. He could see the man peeking at him, a glare being shot his way each and every time it happened, but then he finally emerged, not even giving a warning before shoving a towel in his face. Charming. Jim tried his best to complain about it, but he was soon hushed, bringing his glare back for a second. There was another urge to kick him as well, especially when he was taken off guard with the rather intimate touch, but again, Sebastian was getting quite into this, it seemed. Bastard. 

The next wait was done with Jim losing himself within his thoughts. Made things simpler anyway. And actually, the warmth of the cloth was rather relaxing when Sebastian wasn't hovering over him. He really was rather infuriating when he wanted to be, especially when he would grin like he was when he returned, all cocky and full of himself. But while Jim almost desperately wanted to take him down a peg or two, it could wait. Wait until he was the one with the blade in his hand. 

The criminal stayed quiet while watching Seb get set up, even as he was suddenly presented with a lap full of naked sniper. He could see where this was going, so he didn't even bother to rise to the bait. Instead, he kept his gaze locked with Sebastian's, a faint smirk finding his lips at each roll of the man's hips, but nothing more. He would have to work for it. The only thing that did change Jim's expression being the lather that was met with a rather disgusted look when it first came near him. And if he wasn't being treated to the marvellous friction of Sebastian's hips rocking against his own, he doubted he would have stood for it. But as it was, he slowly began to relax, and rewarded his right hand man with a few faint keens of pleasure. 

But then the bloody blade was out. The blade, then blood. Sebby's blood. Oh how he wanted to be allowed to lick his finger clean, forcing himself to keep his hands away. Still wasn't fair. "One cut, Sweeney, and you'll wish you'd never been born," Jim growled in warning before closing his eyes once more and allowing Sebastian to do as he wished. But, as if to get his own back, Jim quietly lifted a hand and placed it upon his sniper's hip, fingers, for that moment, just ghosting over the soft, warm skin a slow, teasing circles.


	22. SEB

Seb had seen the light go on in Jim's eyes, the first moment blood was shed.

He'd figured as much. Blood and fire and bullets and tears, bruises and bombs and broken glass -- these were the only things that held dominion over James Moriarty. Even the tiniest drop of Sebastian's blood was enough to spark Jim's fantasies, and the moment he'd realized that was the moment that Seb knew he'd be bleeding tonight, regardless of anything Jim might say or imply. 

He just hoped Jim would be able to stop himself, once the bloodbath started...

Sebastian's primary goal for the evening was the exact opposite of Jim's: to _avoid_ spilling even a single drop of Jim's blood, at all costs, under threat of "wishing he'd never been born". His secondary goal, however, was to win the game and make the dirty bastard beg. It was a rare sight, but on the occasions when Jim did, in fact, give in to Seb, it was glorious to see how very low the mastermind would allow himself to fall. Tonight, Sebastian wanted to be the one pressing that impossible monster plug into Jim's reluctant arse, and he might even bring that crop out of Jim's box again, just for fun.

And so far, Jim's resolve had shown some definite signs of weakening. His erection continued to press hard and fast against Sebastian, and he'd let some small moans escape his throat. Even now, Jim was stroking the taller man's hip in gentle, small circles -- but then again, that act probably had less to do with tenderness and more to do with the fact that Sebastian was sporting A GIANT FUCKING RAZOR in the palm of his hand. 

Jim made an off-hand crack about Sweeney Todd, and suddenly all Seb could hear in his head was that fucking song... 

He slid back onto Jim's lap, locking into the laser focus of a man who shoots impossibly tiny specks from impossibly far distances for a living. He could do this. All he needed to do was narrow his field of vision, focus on keeping Jim whole and avoid fucking up. He poised the blade just below Jim's left ear. _Swing your razor high, Sweeney..._

"Ready, Boss?" he asked, and Jim nodded, the tension palpable. "Don't you fucking move a goddamn muscle," Seb threatened, and both men pretended not to hold their breath.

He pulled the blade down and carved a perfect path through the soap, leaving smooth, pale, unbroken skin in its wake. Both men laughed, relieved, and allowed themselves to breath again...

Like anything else, that first stroke was the hardest. The rest followed quickly, and Seb soon relaxed enough to resume grinding against Jim, pausing the shave now and again to nip at his ear, or laugh at whatever crap joke Jim told next. The end result was a flawless shave, so silky and close, Granddad would have been proud. Jim was emerging from underneath the lather more devastatingly handsome than ever, and he'd  seemed to enjoy the process once it had begun.

Seb had managed to negotiate Jim's chin and even under his nose with little difficulty, but leave it to the last stroke for Sebastian Moran to get sloppy, leave it to the very last swipe of the razor to do him in. The blade moved from below Jim's right ear down to his neck, but when Seb applied a little too much pressure, the blade had dragged and skipped across Jim's neck, leaving an undeniable nick and a quick trickle of blood. 

Jim's eyes narrowed, furious, and Seb immediately pressed forward, his tongue lapping at the wound, trying to make it better, applying pressure with his mouth to stop the flow of blood. 

This, he realized, was not going to end well...


	23. JIM

Jim could see that Sebastian had rather enjoyed the Sweeney Todd reference, that he'd begun thinking upon it, amused by it. But he could tell, so very easily tell, that he was trying his best not to give in to the rather dark side both men possessed. It was quite an enjoyable feeling though, once they had both gotten over the initial tension and doubts. Seb seemed quite pleased with himself, and Jim let him be for that moment, because he was doing well. And he had to admit, the job he was doing was one to be proud of. Perhaps not of the standard of the best barber in London, but damn near close. 

Spending time with Sebastian at any point Jim found quite easy, if he was honest. Most people he couldn't stand to listen to or look at for more than a few minutes at a time. His sniper, on the other hand, well, he was different. Different compared to everyone else, but the two...the two were like brothers in arms when it came down to their undeniable savagery. They worked perfectly together, and while Jim did test his best man's loyalty and resolve many times, he never truly wished to see him gone. He would be a bit of a bugger to replace, the little git. 

By the time they were almost done, they were both starting to relax properly. Thoughts gone from caring about what that razor was doing, to other, less important things. It was calm, quiet, and Jim was happy enough to continue silently praising the man still seated in his lap with soft touches and ever so faint moans whenever he would move in just the right way. It was simple, and it was easy. And then Sebastian just had to go and ruin it. Jim felt the nick before Seb even had chance to move and try to cover up his mistake, but even if he hadn't, that would have made things obvious. Idiot. "Get off me," Jim spoke evenly, his voice deceptively calm, though there was still a hint to his tone that this was dangerous territory, and he had spoken an order that should never go unheeded. But when Sebastian didn't move in that single instant, Jim's gaze darkened and in a flash, a hand was pressing at the blonde's throat, pushing him back until their eyes met, then giving him a final shove off. Just before he pushed him away though, Jim managed to slip the razor from Sebastian's hand, and it was with a smirk that he placed it on the table by his side, swapping it for one of the clean towels so he could make himself look presentable once more. In the end, it was tossed at Seb's feet, forgotten about. 

"Get in," Jim ordered one he had stood and moved away from the chair, still with the same almost calm tone. He took to cleaning the blade next, taking his time to make sure it gleamed once more, his touch careful and almost cradling, gentle hold making his knowledge and respect for how to use such a razor obvious. Never done it on himself. Never actually done it for someone else, either, but they were rather decent instruments for opening up a couple of arteries and watching the blood pool. And only once it was clean did Jim turn his attention back to his sniper and the chair, placing himself within his lap, just as Sebastian had done to him. He even gave a slow rock of his hips, leaning forward to mouth at the man's neck, teeth catching at the exact same point Sebby's blade had nicked his own skin. And while Sebastian was enjoying himself, Jim took his chance to press the end of the blade against his throat. A steady pressure, hand deadly still with a patience he never usually possessed. "It wasn't a hard request, was it, Sebby? I know you're not a complete idiot, so you must have understood," Jim whispered into his tiger's ear, "Do you just enjoy disobeying me? Well, we'll see about changing that." 

The movement was a quick flick of the wrist, just enough pressure to break the skin. Just enough to make him bleed. And such a line upon that strong neck was undeniably tantalising, making it completely useless Jim even trying to hold back. So he didn't. Allowing himself to lean in, tongue darting out between his lips to catch a droplet of the warm, copperish liquid -fantastic with peppermint schnapps- and follow its trail back up to the source. Rocking his hips forward again, Jim pulled back for a single moment to ask a final question of his sniper. "Where next?"


	24. SEB

In the grand scheme of How Bad Things Could Have Gone, considering it was Sebastian’s first time with the blade, a simple nick to the throat wasn’t bad at all. Shockingly good, if you really thought about it…and Seb couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The taste of Jim’s blood under his tongue, the way Jim’s body had jerked beneath him the moment the razor kissed him, Jim at Sebastian’s mercy, the veins in his neck so prominent and tempting, blue against pale skin. Jim should be celebrating Seb’s exceptional restraint, goddammit, not punishing his 11th Hour mistake.

That’s why he didn’t move the moment Jim told him to, why Jim was forced to clutch at his throat and push him to the ground, snatching the red-stained razor from his hands. A shame, really. Everything had been so bloody perfect before things got bloody…

Jim stood by the chair, alarmingly calm, disappointment flickering just below the surface, masking anger, which masked excitement, which masked raw, grisly intent. Jim might not really want to kill him ( _might_ being the key word here), but Seb’s unfortunate slip of the wrist had been nothing less than a hand-delivered, engraved invitation to wreak havoc on Seb’s person, all in the name of revenge, of punishment, of, hmmm, fun – and Jim couldn’t wait to RSVP.

Sebastian sat down in the chair when Jim told him to, the cool of the leather reminding him that he was naked, and he felt more naked than he had before, more exposed and more vulnerable to a wandering blade. It was telling that this realization didn’t make him any less hard.

Jim washed the blade, cleaned off his blood and made it shine again. Seb watched him work, watched Jim in profile, and saw that the nick on his neck had already clotted and was well on its way to scabbing over, pain gone but certainly not forgotten.

It was at that moment when James Moriarty – not Jim, not Boss, but the man himself -- turned his eyes to Seb. The sniper did his best to fight back the inevitable chill that ran up his spine. Moriarty considered him with a long look, tilting his head slightly before deliberately and wordlessly stepping over him and straddling his legs. He stood there for a moment, putting Seb face-to-face with his cock, which would still be modestly hidden inside his expensive trousers if he weren’t so obviously erect. Seb, again, showed exceptional restraint by not even attempting to bite…

Without a word, without a sound, Moriarty settled into Seb’s lap and mimicked Seb’s movements from before, the same small rocking motions, but this time with Seb pinned below. It was…pleasant. Scary – confusing, arousing, fuck. Sebastian still kept it together, no visible reaction, no response.

In fact, it wasn’t until Moriarty leaned in to Seb’s neck, to the very place the man had nicked on Jim’s neck, that Sebastian’s control slipped --  just for a moment, just like the razor –his breath hitching almost imperceptibly at the touch of the man’s teeth, and the steel of the razor point that followed.

He stared, belligerently, at a fixed point on Jim’s wall, while Moriarty scolded him, steady pressure of the razor at his throat. He tried not to breathe. By the time the blade came down, it was a relief, the swell of blood bringing Jim’s mouth to his neck – and it _was_ Jim again, his Boss, his ridiculous Daddy – who lapped and licked at the wound, snapping his hips hard against Seb’s and mumbling something about peppermint schnapps.

Sebastian’s first mistake had been the unfortunate nick to the neck.

His second mistake had been prematurely thinking his punishment was over.

That’s why, when Jim pulled back and asked his question, asked him, playfully, “What’s next?”, Sebastian was caught completely off-guard.

“I – what? Jim, I…?” he stammered, and Jim repeated his question with a bratty “told-you-so” look, and gestured casually with the razor.

Sebastian, it must be said, is nothing if not practical. Without a strategy, he looked to his own body for direction, to the network of scars from his previous injuries, some left by Jim, but most from other battles, other wars, the ugly map of pain on his forearm, red shiny places spidering his thighs, so many scars.

Room for a few more, he thought practically, and looked up into Jim’s eyes.

“If you start with my shoulder, Jim, you can work your way down.” Seb managed a smirk. “And won’t that be fun?” 


	25. JIM

While Jim may have thought his sniper was beginning to understand him, figure out what he liked and what kept him amused, there were times when he was reminded how simple the man's mind was. First, there was the obvious confusion, the way he looked actually shocked that a simple nick was going to make up for what Seb had put him through. Oh no, that wouldn't do at all. He had been given his warning after all. But then, once he had figured everything out and made up his mind, there was the suggestion. And, really, it was a disappointment. His shoulder of all places? Hardly get a decent reaction out of that, would he? 

Tutting at Sebby's rather pathetic idea, Jim let his gaze drop down the man's stomach to where his cock strained against the tanned flesh. Much better. "You do have to learn to dream a little bigger, darling. But don't worry, I don't mind showing you just this once," Jim teased, looking up over more and flashing a grin at his sniper before gracefully slipping out of his lap. 

Giving his legs a quick nudge apart, the criminal settled himself between them, free hand dragging finely manicured nails up the inside of Sebastian's thigh, all the way up to his cock. But not touching. No, he was going to have some fun with him first. He knew Seb would have a hard time holding back with him in this position, but it would be so worth it. Especially with the way he could see Seb's muscles tense as he brought the razor to his skin, lightly following one of the red lines made by his nails up the man's thigh. Not enough pressure to cause serious damage, but enough to make him bleed, cause droplets of blood to form in the wake of his blade. But then he was there, tongue slowly lapping up the blood, soothing his wounds. This wasn't about punishment any more. No, he wanted to get him to beg. 

The other thigh got the same treatment, all the while Jim focusing on Sebby's reactions more than what he was doing himself. And once he pulled away from the second cut, tongue running over his lips, an idea struck. One that involved his blade against the sensitive skin on Seb's cock. Not cutting, he wasn't the cruel, but slowly teasing the flat edge in long, languid, stroking motions along his length. And how wonderful he looked with his blood smeared over him like that. "What do you think, Sebby?" Jim muttered, and as he spoke, he leaned closer, quicksilver tongue passing over the tip of his sniper's cock just once, tasting just how desperate he was getting, "One more before you learn your lesson?" And what a perfect final mark he had in mind for his right hand man.


	26. SEB

“Dream a little bigger,” he’d said, and Seb tried not to be insulted by the fact that Jim had been staring directly at his cock when he said it.

To Jim, “bigger” roughly translated into “let me fillet your privates”, a suggestion that initially garnered a rousing “fuck, no” from Sebastian – until Jim sidled off his lap and landed on his knees before him. There he sat, the little bastard, with his vicious smirk, straight razor in his hands and probably a Beretta in his trouser pocket, and the sniper knew there would be no denying him. When Jim finally parted Seb’s thighs and wedged himself between them, Sebastian quickly found his objections falling to the wayside.

After all, he reasoned, Jim may be crazy…

_(…fingernails dragging along his thigh, shit, good boy, Jim…)_

...but he wasn’t stupid…

_(…the sound of the razor snapping free, fuck me…)_

…so surely he wouldn’t willingly disfigure…

_(…razor skating over trembling inner thigh, leaving not a firm line, but a skip-stroke, like the one on Jim’s throat…)_

…the very parts he liked best about his Tiger…

_(…and oh, Jim’s tongue as a chaser, laving the wounds clean…)_

…now would he?

See, Seb wasn’t stupid either. He knew that Jim’s sudden genuflection before him, that servile tongue sweeping so prettily over Seb’s inflamed flesh, it was all a pantomime – and Seb loved Jim for understanding exactly what he needed and being able to give it to him.

It’s easier to enjoy abuse when it’s prefaced by a power struggle. It makes the bottom’s inevitable fall the result of a momentary defeat, a battle lost, rather than a desperately misunderstood lifestyle choice. When Jim ran that razor over his cock, Seb knew it was an illusion, a small slight of hand, a trick of the light, but after seeing the blade and the blood, and feeling the cold metal against him, Seb was all but set on vibrate. His breath was shallow, his cock wept, and his heart pounded loudly in his chest.

“Jim…” he began, but didn’t finish, and then Jim was talking, but Seb’s mind couldn’t focus on the words because his mouth was so close to Seb’s cock , and then his mouth was around Seb’s cock, and it was very nearly too much to bear.  


	27. JIM

Jim heard the begging of a protest, but even if it had continued, he wouldn't have listened. He was enjoying this too much, his mind too focused on it for anything else to come in his way. Of course he wouldn't harm his man too much, and Seb seemed to understand it with the way he was still so very hard and obviously gagging for more than a simple touch. And it would always be like that between them because they understood each other, the way to play the other to the point of no return, and then beyond. 

And Jim knew what Seb needed in that moment to break him down just that little bit more. And that came in the form of lips parting to take just the head of his cock into his mouth, applying gentle suction, but nothing too much. He didn't want to make him come, just simply tease him quite horrifically. His tongue twisted and teased, gaze flicking up to catch Seb's eye, wanting to see the undoing of such a powerful man under his fingertips. But before he could lose himself too much, Jim pulled away. It was cruel and heartless and he just loved the look on Sebastian's face, the mourning loss in his eyes. 

"One more, sweetie, remember? Then you’ll beg for me," he damn near purred, grin gracing his features. The razor was still in his hand, kept safely away until this point, where he flicked it open again, relishing in the ever so subtle way his tiger would tense just at the sound. Fingertips trailed over Seb's thigh. His right one, Jim had decided. Easier for him, and it would look better in his opinion. Bringing the sharp edge of the blade to his skin, Jim gave one last glance up, still enjoying this thoroughly. "Do try to stay still for me, Sebby," he cooed, then all focus was gone from the man, quickly finding the razor again. First, he just ran the blade over the skin, not harming him in the slightest, merely tracking where he would place the mark. But before Seb could complain, could even think to stay anything, Jim had already dug the blade into his skin and drawn the first line. He didn't press it deep. Or not deep enough to cause any major injury. Deep enough to ensure it would scar though. Six lines, including the first, six times he had the power to make Sebastian tense and squirm and gasp in pain. Oh and it was wonderful. Almost as wonderful as the sight of his finished work. His initials, forever carved into Seb's skin, a constant reminder of who he belonged to. 

"Hush, hush, Sebby. All done now," Jim finally muttered, snatching one of the towels from atop the desk by their side and gently wiping away the blood until he could carefully press his lips to the wound, and again, hand finding the man's cock as a reward. A silent 'good dog.'


	28. SEB

When predatory animals take down their prey, most start with the stomach, biting into the soft flesh of the underbelly in order to gain access to the tender organs within.

What Jim had in mind for Seb was hardly an evisceration -- but tender flesh was in his crosshairs, and what he was about to do would, in no uncertain terms, make Seb his prey, now and forever.

For the last several minutes, Jim’s tongue had been teasing around the tip of Sebastian’s cock, maddening, and Seb longed for a proper stroke along the inside of his throat, but Jim wouldn’t hear of it. He did make up for the refusal, in some small way, by indulging in a degree of oral messiness that the immaculate man rarely entertained – and oh, Seb did love Jim all sloppy and wet, wicked and corrupt, looking up at him with those big round eyes, the left one charmingly, maniacally, askew. Even in this debauched state, Jim managed to retain a vicious sense of superiority, and the contradiction made Seb shift and moan in his chair.

Realistically, he’d known that Jim would never let him cum like this, not from a simple blowjob, not after he’d drawn things out so beautifully -- but Seb had entertained the notion long enough to be disappointed when Jim inevitably withdrew.

He called him “Sweetie”, but Seb didn’t feel very sweet right now. He felt hungry, fucking needy, the desire to cum obscuring everything in his world, except for the fear of what was to come next…

“One more,” Jim had said, and Seb’s mind had reeled – because when you really thought about it, there weren’t a lot of places on the human body that were built to withstand invasion by razor blade. Jim had been too skittish to actually cut his cock, which had been a fucking relief, so what was left? What was to be Jim’s closing act?

Seb closed his eyes. Of course he knew -- there were only so many vulnerable spots left. Seb knew without wanting to know, knew the minute Jim forced his legs wider and flicked open the blade.

He opened his eyes. “Fucking no, Jim! That’s not…you can’t…”

Jim fixed him with a look. It was a patient one, a loving one, the firm look of a parent to an unruly child. The look of someone who knows what’s best.

Sebastian Moran trembled and gripped the arms of the chair. He exhaled, suddenly lost in the realization that he was actually going to let Jim do this, that he…wanted Jim to do this, whatever it was. Seb was just going to close his mouth and lie back down and give Jim free reign.

Because they needed this.

Because Seb trusted the little shit.

Because he loved him, not that he’d ever said the words out loud.

In a way, letting Jim do this was Seb’s “I Love You” to Jim.

The sniper licked his lips, and gave Jim a nervous nod, pushing his shoulders back into the chair. When Jim pulled the skin taut, adrenaline surged and he thought he might be sick. Once the first cut was made, Seb knew what to expect, but it didn’t make the pain any less, and the amount of blood, coming from such shallow cuts, shocked him.

By the end, he was sweat-slicked and shaking, and Jim extended his hand, an invitation, to sit up and see Jim’s work.

Seb had been expecting mutilation, but what he found instead was a declaration – of love, of ownership - and all at once, he felt his heart might burst.

He looked up his madman, forearms soaked in blood, razor dangling from his pocket, and pulled him in for a kiss. Fucking romantic…


	29. JIM

Like this, Sebastian looked a work of art. So shaken and flustered and downright petrified, yet somehow in awe of what he been done to him. He was marvellous in his own right like this. Jim wanted nothing more in that moment than to just look upon him, take in all of his scars, knowing that the ones that meant the most to him had been delivered by his own hand. But then he was pulled up into a kiss and all of that was forgotten. 

Jim knew what it meant, why Sebby was doing this, but he didn't pull away. Somehow, it didn't bother him. Might have been because neither of them had even attempted to say anything, or just because of the mutual understanding between them both, but all Jim did was press back, arms looped round his sniper's neck to keep him close. But now Seb had shown what a good boy he could be, Jim thought it time for a treat.Though first he had to say something. 

"I will kill you one day, Sebastian," he whispered, lips brushing over his tiger's, dark eyes boring into stunning blue, "I promise I will be the end of you. But until then, you are mine, and mine alone." 

And with that, Jim stood, taking Sebastian's hand and trying his best to tug him up, all hints of a threat give from his gaze, and a rather pleased grin back on his lips. "Come Sebby, you can walk, just a few steps. Then you can lay down for me." Giving his arm another tug, him didn't let up until the man was on his feet and had made it over to the bed, where he happily pushed him down and instantly backed away. He didn't leave him though. No, he wasn't that cruel. Instead, he went to the table, took the razor from his pocket, and placed it down. Then, his hands dropped to the fastenings of his trousers, slowly undoing them, taking his time to ensure Sebastian was enjoying himself. But of course he was. He was still so hard, and this so obviously what he wanted. Jim's trousers were shed slowly, his underwear following, until he was bared for his sniper's gaze, and as soon as it was upon him, he walked back over to him, not even beginning to hesitate as he moved onto the bed and over his sniper, straddling his hips, and leaning down for another kiss. "You will beg for me, Sebby."


	30. SEB

The world changed in that moment, the moment Jim leaned in and whispered his vow. Because it was a vow, as solemn as ‘til death do we part – hell, it *was* ‘til death do we part – it’s just in Jim’s version, he was death. Which made it even more romantic, in a strange way.

Little shit’s making me go soft, Sebastian thought, when he realized he’d just used the word ”romantic” to describe James Moriarty – twice then, in just the last three minutes.  But, it was true. To Seb, anyway.

He wanted to tell Jim how much his words had touched him, how much they meant and that they were reciprocated, but he knew that if he did, Jim would probably just kick him in the bollocks (particularly painful right about now) and call him a stupid cunt, for good measure. Darling, darling Jim…

So instead, Seb just nodded and shot him a conspiratorial grin. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, Boss,” he said, “Good to know it’s official.”

Jim had returned the smile and helped him to bed -- but gave him a nasty little shove once he got there, a shove that put Sebby right back on track. Hearts and flowers were all well and good for most, but Jim and Sebastian needed more. Seb, for one, needed Jim to finish what he’d fucking started with that slap, the one that had gone straight to his cock, and a little scarification wasn’t going to get in his way. He ran a hand down to his razor-lined thighs, gripped his cock, and tentatively tested the tenderness of his brand new scar. It hurt, and would hurt even more if Jim decided to fuck him. The thought made his cock swell instantly, automatically, and Seb growled deep in his throat.

It only got worse when he realized what Jim was doing -- the filthy fucking tease was finally getting undressed, but slowly, his hand running lazily along the waistband of his trousers, popping the button and sliding down the zip, jesus…Seb shuddered. He was too good at this, Sebastian thought. All at once, the pants were gone, and Jim was naked, moving without hesitation and with great intent. All at once, Jim was above him, straddling him, naked and hard and telling him to beg.

Sebastian liked to beg. It made him hard just thinking about it, the way the words would spill out of his mouth in a rush, a breathless gasp of want leading to the glorious snap of Jim’s hip, the slap of his hand, the ragged push of his cock deeper and deeper until, oh fuck…Yes, Sebby liked to beg, but the words wouldn’t come until he found himself on the brink. Before then, it was just so much insincere bullshit, and Jim could spot a fake from a mile away.

Getting to the brink, though, had always been easy with Jim. He could get him there in a heartbeat with a single word, some nights. He knew how to push Seb’s buttons, alright, and he was doing it now, whispering cruelties in his ear, a running monologue, while Seb struggled beneath him. When Sebastian started grinding against him, he backed his hips out of reach. When Seb tried to snake a hand down to his own cock, the hand was lifted and pinned above him. When he shamefully started rutting against the blanket, Jim just laughed and kicked away the covers. Crossed at every turn, the sniper felt a tide of frustration rising up inside, his cock heavy and his bollocks aching, every move a new kind of pain. That’s when the whimpers began in earnest, and Seb felt himself drifting closer to that brink…


	31. JIM

Everything was always more fun when Seb was desperate for it. Gagging for it. Squirming and whining underneath him. He was so much better behaved as well, because he would do anything for just a touch, and they both knew it. He watched how he tentatively touched his new mark, watched how he seemed to get even harder as a thought crossed his mind. Ten points for guessing what that thought was. But nothing, nothing in the whole, miserable world, was sweeter than hearing Sebastian whimper. 

It was just the cherry on top of this most wonderful evening. 

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Jim teased, his grip on Sebby's wrists tightening just a little, forcing him to stay still, "You're so desperate, aren't you? Like a little bitch in heart, begging for me to fuck you raw, show you who you really belong to. You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?" Of course he would. He made everything so obvious after all. But, when he decided to shift down the man's body, settle between his legs so he could press his fingers to Seb's wound, break the skin again and collect the small pool of blood on his fingers, he let him go, expecting him to stay there, but not demanding it. If Sebby wanted to get his own back then he could try. But he looked too damn hard for anything other than crying out for his pleasure. 

And with the blood on his fingers, Jim had a rather wonderful idea. With no time given for Sebastian to complain, Jim had trailed his fingers down his sniper's cock, leaving two faint trails of blood in their wake. But he was hardly going to stop at that. Catching a drop of the red liquid running down Seb's thigh, he finally brought the tip of one finger to just graze down between his thighs, past his cock, to finally ever so teasingly brush over the tight ring of muscle he knew would look so perfect stretched around their new toy. "Do you want this, Sebby?" Jim whispered, not pushing the finger in, just toying with the idea of it, "You know what you have to do to get it."


	32. SEB

Sebastian cried out when Jim’s fingers broke the skin, the “JM” momentarily obscured when the blood began to flow. He was already sticky with the stuff, and so was Jim, and between his boss’ macabre handprints, marking the sheets, and Seb’s own red-stained body parts, their bed looked like a crime scene – and a deliciously grisly one at that.

As time went on, the sniper’s squirms had become increasingly more frantic, bucking against Jim’s blood-slicked finger, positively keening when he refused to press inside. Sebastian arched his back, petulant, desperate for friction -- but Jim was firm, and Seb was too stupid with want to think with any kind of clarity.  His whole world had narrowed to this single point of desire, this solitary longing, and his mind was exquisitely spun.

“Please…” he started, his voice hoarse and rasping. “Please, Boss…Jim…”

Jim listened with amusement, eager for the debasement to begin in earnest. His expression positively made Sebastian fold in on himself.

“Fuck me, Jim, please, “ he started, the words halting and awkward at first. “I need it. Need to feel you inside me, y-your finger or your hand or your cock or w-w-whatever else fits, I don’t care, I just…need you to stretch me, Daddy, please.”

The criminal arched his brow, seeming to approve of the general direction of the grovel – or perhaps it was merely a display of appreciation for Sebby’s nervous stutter, which was something altogether new.

Seb groaned, ramping up, his distress increasing exponentially now. “I know I don’t deserve you, Jim, don’t deserve your cock or-or-or your attention or, fuck, anything else. You were right when you said I was a desperate little bitch in heat, Jim, I fucking am. And I do want, no, n-need you to fuck me raw, and I hope you make it hurt. Like it did with the crop and the g-g-goddamn razor.”

He leaned forward, placing his forehead on Jim’s and angling his head to look up at him, whispering quickly. “Y-you can hit me if I don’t do it right, Boss. Hell, you can even if I do it right, but please, just fill me. I’m asking nicely, please Jim, p-p-please…”

Seb’s whimpers became sniffles became sobs, and Jim watched with interest as this deadliest of men fell slowly to pieces.


	33. JIM

James Moriarty had never been a man known for his patience. In most situations he demanded action, would never sit around and do nothing. But in that moment, the single moment where he saw the cracks beginning to open up within Sebastian's resolve, the patience how showed was exquisite. How he managed it could only be attributed to one factor; he didn't just want begs and pleas, he wanted to see Sebastian truly fall apart. There were many who would eagerly allow him to beat and break them, but only Sebastian would let him be there to put the pieces back together again, see so clearly what he had managed to do to such a powerful man with his own hand, but then soothe him afterwards. Torture was easy. But this...this was theirs. 

Didn't mean it didn't get increasingly hard not to just give in to his tiger though, especially when the begging began in earnest. And with the man so close, skin touching, cocks mere centimetres apart, it was a perfect show off control that kept Jim steady and calm. He was enjoying these promises though, how easily Sebastian broke once given the push, and he made a promise to himself to given his sniper every single thing that he'd asked for, everything that he could ever want. 

That's when the sobs came. Slowly, at first, but they came just like they always would, and Jim knew his cue perfectly. He watched for a moment longer, waiting until he knew his words and his touch would only bring Sebastian the greatest of relief, but when he was sure, he started small. A brush of a thumb against his cheek, a faint kiss to his forehead as he leaned forward. A soft whisper, calming, soothing, gentle. Everything Jim wasn't. "Hush, Sebby, it's okay, I'm here, I'll give you everything you could ever need, sweetheart, don't worry. You've been such a good boy." 

And it was with that Jim moved, moved back to where he had been sat, blood slicked fingers once merely poised at his entrance now pushing in. Two at a time. Not going to hurt too much for a well trained pup like Sebby, but it would be enough to satisfy him for that moment. He wouldn't stretch him for long though, he was too on edge for that. Besides, they didn't work like that either. He let Sebastian indulge in the feeling a little longer than usual though, happy to watch him squirm in delight as he pressed the fingers deeper inside of him, even placing a few faint kisses to the length of his cock. But by the time he reached the tip to give a final lick, his patience was done. Pleasantries over. He pulled his hand away, instead nudging Seb's thighs apart that bit more. Perfect. He positioned himself, cock hard and straining just in thoughts of how glorious his sniper was going to feel stretched round him. There was time enough for a final look between them both, shared gaze near electric with want and need and desire. But then, the next second, there was a kiss, a battle of tongues and teeth, and Jim finally -finally- pressing into the warmth of his tiger's body, one fluid moment. It would hurt, another bite of pain for Sebastian to endure, but it was what they both wanted, and seemingly in unison, they both growled their pleasure into each other in that momentary pause before their final game truly began.


	34. SEB

Three points of contact, head, heart and hole: Jim’s left hand, anchored in Seb’s hair. Jim’s right palm, pressed flat against his chest, Jim’s rigid cock, poised at the point of entry. Three points of contact can be a man’s undoing, or they can be his salvation. For Sebastian Moran, they were both, and he knew he could count on Jim not to hold anything back.

There was that final moment, that shared gaze, and then there were two mutual growls to get on with it already – and that’s when Jim forced his cock inside the sniper, slamming into Seb’s not-fully-stretched ring and grunting with effort, breaking down the wall, prying him open in one concerted effort. Seb rumbled, low in his throat, the noise becoming more amplified as the intensity increased, and as the pain peaked, all he could see was a flash of blinding white light. He clutched at Jim’s back, fingernails gripping hard, leaving eight perfectly-shaped crescent cuts along Jim’s shoulders, each one surprisingly deep and bleeding. The cuts would leave faint scars even after they’d healed.

Turns out, both men left their marks on each other that day…

Once inside, Jim found his pace, slow and steady to keep Seb from climaxing before he was ready. Breathlessly, he watched Seb writhe, and Jim began waxing poetic on the lubricating properties of Sebby’s blood – an unfortunate realization for him to make, considering he now knew the whereabouts of a fantastic razor...

Seb moaned, and lifted his hips to meet Jim’s, shivering at the upstroke, bearing down against the downstroke, feeling that delicious contradiction of full-to-the-max one moment followed by brilliant, shuddering emptiness the next, his hole spasming against the absence of Jim.  Fucking hell, it was gorgeous, on both sides, and Sebby whimpered, not from want, but from the conflicting desires of wanting to cum and wanting this to go on forever.

Jim leaned forward mid-stroke, and began to lick away Seb’s tears, the criminal’s tongue sweeping along cheekbones, tasting salt. Seb’s skin felt cool where Jim’s tongue had been, and then Jim was calling him a good boy again, asking him if he still wanted Daddy to fuck him raw…

Sebastian whinged his answer, nodding, “Yess…”

“Even knowing how much it will hurt?”

Sebby responded by snapping his hip, harder, and groaning “Yes, please, Jim…”  

Jim was enjoying this, drawing it out for his sniper slut, feigning concern. “But, if I go fast – and you know I will – the pain against your new mark will be exquisite, darling, and there will be _so much_ blood…”

“Jim,” Seb growled impatiently, through gritted teeth, “If y-you don’t f-f-fucking make me cum now, I promise I will slit your throat in your sleep. With Grandad’s fucking razor, no less.”


	35. JIM

Yes, Jim wanted more. He always wanted more, never satisfied with something ordinary. He wanted to make Seb cry out, scream for him. Wanted to see him bleed. It wasn't healthy, wasn't what any person in their right mind would think of, but he knew he was different. Embraced it. Besides, Sebastian loved it, and now all he needed was for Sebby to give his consent. Well, didn't need it, he could just do it anyway, especially when he knew the man wanted it so much, but this way made it all the more fun for him, and painful for his sniper. His little slut. His favourite person on the whole, miserable planet. 

But then that confirmation came, and Jim's mind suddenly halted, quiet all apart from one thought. The thought of how good Sebastian would sound when he finally came. "Bold promises, Sebby. I should have your head for a threat like that, but we both know you wouldn't; you need me too much," he growled, lowering his head So his lips found the blonde's neck, again just the spot where the razor had caught him. He had all but stopped his motions, only giving short, shallow thrusts, adoring hearing Sebby whine. "But, since you've been so well behaved, and you've been so hard for me all evening, I'll let you off this once." 

A kiss to his neck followed. Then, all in the blink of an eye, the hand in Seb's hair tightened, pulling his head to one side to exclude his throat for Jim's teeth, which sank into the warm flesh. And with it, he snapped his hips forward with as much force as he could muster. His thrusts were brutally fast, hard enough to hurt something fierce, and through it all, Jim noticed how Sebastian kept moaning for him, tensing round him, getting even harder with each thrust. Both as mad as each other. He could feel the skin had spilt on Sebby's mark once more with how wide his legs were spread in desperate want, feel the blood against his own skin, warm and sticky and oh so good. He knew they wouldn't last much longer, either of them, but Jim wanted one more word below he lost his sniper to the bliss of orgasm. 

"Just think, Sebby," he started, near breathless, voice rough in his lust, but he had to tease him, "When I'm done, how I'm going to force that plug into you. I'll make it hurt, just how you like. You'll look so good stretched and gaping round it, filled with my come." He had to pause then, a stutter in his stroke, partly from the impending climax, but mostly from just the mere thought of the sight. Jim being Jim, he soon got himself back together, and even managed to quicken his pace, a final push, hand leaving Sebby's hair to wrap round his throat. "Do you want it, Sebby?" He growled, forcing himself to hold back until the very last minute, "Beg for it, then. Show your daddy how desperate you are."


	36. SEB

The kiss.

The bite.

The hand in the hair and the snap of his neck and oh, fuck searingfastpain as Jim tore into him, tore _against_ him, wet dripping down between his legs, blood or sweat or pre-cum it didn’t fucking matter, hands scrabbling against him, and Seb scrabbling back: if Jim could go deep, Seb would pull him deeper, if Jim’s cock was hard, Seb’s would be harder, if Jim went fast, fuck, Seb would be right there, urging him to go even faster.  No one else would give him this, Sebastian had known this, no one in his right mind – and so he’d set about finding someone who wasn’t…

He’d found him, alright, he thought, half mad from desire, faint from blood loss, gasping for air beneath Jim’s jackhammer cock, and he knew he was dancing on that edge of cumming, right there, he could feel it, fuck -- but he needed a push, a push and a hand on his cock, god and jesus and Jim, that would do it. And of those three he prayed to, Jim was the only one that answered:

_"Just think, Sebby. When I'm done, how I'm going to force that plug into you. I'll make it hurt, just how you like. You'll look so good stretched and gaping round it, filled with my come. Do you want it, Sebby? Beg for it, then. Show your daddy how desperate you are."_

In the aftermath of permanent genital mutilation, Seb had thought Jim would’ve forgotten their bet, forgotten the monster plug, or at least realized that there was only so much damage the human body could take in one night. The plug promised a new form of torture on his already bloody and battered hole, and it’s use certainly implied that Jim wasn’t going to let him cum from this rough fucking, not a chance. He’d want his Sebby to be gagging for it, at least until the monster was well in place, fuck. Seb howled in frustration, and Jim just laughed.

Moral of the story: when Jim answers your prayers, expect some slight-of-hand, and be prepared to beg…

Right now, begging came easy for the sniper, whimpers and whinges and mewls were there for the taking, cries and yelps and hisses were plenty, and wheedling little moans, and whispers. “Please, Jim, shove it in me, rip my asshole, tear it apart, daddy, because it’s all for you, you to fuck, to shred, to destroy, reduce me to nothing, Jim, nothing but a hole for you to fuck, for you to play with, for you to experiment with and throw me away when you’re done, daddy, I fucking dare you. I will spread for you, and try to bear it, hobble to my feet and try to walk, feel the spasms inside, and then the gape when it’s out, and blush when you laugh at how much its stretched me, and wonder if it will ever be the same. I hope it won’t. I hope it will be like my mark, forever a sign that you were here and that you once wanted me enough to claim me as yours. But please, boss, if I can withstand this plug, please, please Jim, please let me cum? I’ll do anything if you let me, I promise, just, oh, god, please let me cum…”


	37. JIM

If there was one thing Sebastian was good at, it was begging. He was rather marvellous at it, almost poetic, completely unlike he was in his usual state of mind. But when he lost himself, he found a different person all together on the other side. Needy, submissive, so eager to please. And while Jim adored his sniper for who he was, loved his gruff demeanour, it was this that drove him to push him so far when they had these moments. Because there was no better use for the man's voice than pleading with him to fuck him even harder. 

So good, that all it took was a few more harsh thrusts, a whispered, "Yes, Sebby," in reply, and a bite to the sniper's neck before Jim found his climax. He came deep within his little slut, low, growling moan leaving his lips and rumbling against his skin. So tight, so good. 

A hand found its way round Sebastian's cock just before he lost himself. A tight grip. Forcing him not to come. Didn't want to ruin their game so quickly. The hold didn't loosen until Jim was sated and spent, relaxing atop his tiger for a moment to regain his mind. Anyways took a few moments, but those seconds were a precious escape from the usual torture of his existence, and no matter how much Sebastian whined, he was going to enjoy them. Dragging things out like this always helped too, but eventually his thoughts started to return, and finally Jim shifted, pressed a faint kiss to the newly formed mark on Sebby's neck, then pulled back to smirk down at him. Letting him know he hadn't forgotten. 

His withdrawal was slow, steady, knowing Seb would be sore. He tried to make it look as if he cared. And in a sense, he did. Sebastian was the only one he would truly miss if he died. 

"Turn over darling," Jim instructed, sitting back away from his sniper, watching him quietly, "Remember how to present yourself? Arse in the air, there's a good boy. Now stay." He would have Sebastian trained up well by the time they were done, and while he dragged himself up, Jim stood, fetched the plug and a bottle of lube. Poor Sebby had been through enough tonight without even more pain. "I'll go slowly, Sebby. If you don't think you can take any more, you know what you have to do, but you won't get to cum. Take it for me, and I'll show you something nice as a reward afterwards." Jim's tone was unusually soft, caring, honied, spoken as he slicked the bright plastic with a generous amount of lube. There were times he did like to see Sebby relax though.


	38. SEB

Sebastian shut his eyes tight when Jim said yes, when he said his name and bit into his neck, and when he came, fuck, yes, deep inside. 

It took all of his will and Jim's tight grip to keep Seb from following suit at that precise moment and in the glorious moments that followed -- when Jim lounged, debauched and wasted, on top of Seb's naked and aching form. He'd never been one for objectification kink per se, but at that moment, the idea of serving as Jim's personal BarcaLounger did have a certain appeal. In the calm that followed, Seb reminded himself that he did this to Jim, he brought him to this place, armed with nothing but the tightness of his arse, the power of his words and his overwhelming need to submit. 

And if he could topple someone as formidable as Jim, could whole governments, whole worlds be that far behind? Certainly not with Jim at his side... 

But now, Jim had released his cock, and Seb hummed in anticipation, momentarily in control of himself, but ready to release at a moment's notice. A hair-trigger, which wasn't helped when Jim smirked at him, Jesus. That look, that fucking face, always begs for a punch or a kick in the bollocks, but it goes straight to Seb's cock like nothing else, even better than a slap. It reduces him to the stupid fucking slut he is - which, at the time, made it all that much easier for Sebastian to submit to something as humiliating as "presenting" to Jim. 

He did as he was told, head down, arse up, cheeks stretched, sloppy little fuck begging for a silicone plug that was far too wide for him. He breathed a momentary sigh of relief when Jim brought out the lube -- some small blessing, that. Jim was saying soft sweet reassuring things to him, again, putting him on his guard. But, Seb supposed, if he were the one about to shove a blindingly big something up Jim's arse, he'd probably mutter insincere niceties to him, too.  

But when the base of that garish fucking hunk of plastic first breached Seb's hole, even at its thinnest and shallowest point, he knew he was in for a difficult time. His hips pulled back, on instinct, earning him a jeer and a slap from Jim for struggling, and Jim pushed the bloody thing in another centimeter. 

It wasn't even a quarter of the way in and Seb was starting to lose it. He considered calling it off, but then he remembered that if he did, it was over, and he wouldn't be allowed to cum. Jim was a right cunt for doing this, making him make this choice. After all he'd been through, he bloody fucking well deserved a goddamned orgasm, and if he had to suffer Jim shoving a pineapple up there, he'd do it, at this point. 

He stilled his hips, and steeled his nerve. 

"Let's fucking do this, Boss..."


	39. JIM

The first push was the easiest especially when Sebastian didn't act like a baby about it. With the lube, a gentle slide in to his already abused arse. Which would easily accommodate this thing, in the end. He just needed a bit of time to coax him in the right direction. They'd played like this before, with something almost as big. But then, there'd been more of a build up then just a rough fuck in those times. This would be hard for his tiger, but Jim knew he could grit his teeth and bare it, because he was strong. And that was something he never wanted to take away from him. 

A quarter of the way in. A milestone, though not a very impressive one. All the same, Jim was proud. He could tell it was getting difficult, that Seb was already questioning whether or not he should keep going, so Jim kept quiet. He wanted him to make his own mind up, let his own desperation cloud his judgement once again. And it did. Beautifully. "Such a brave tiger," he cooed, words no more than a whisper, and with it, he reached a hand under his sniper to tease a few fingers over his cock. Gave a few, playful strokes. Had to keep him hard. Needy. So gorgeous. 

The next quarter went in without much of a hassle, even a little quicker than the first; Sebastian seeming to resign himself to his fate and relax a little more. Jim didn't tell him though, figuring it would only pay with his mind if he'd only just got to half way. Instead, a few more light strokes. Good boy. The final half was much harder though. Getting wider, probably too wide, but Jim persevered. It went it. Slow, but it did. A marvellous sight, too. A few times, Jim had to learn down to press a few kisses to Sebby's back, needing to feel he was still with him. But he was, he always would be. 

Then, all of a sudden, it was the last part, that part that would hurt the most. And Jim grinned. "Last bit, Sebby. Just hang on for one more minute, then I'll let you come for me, because you're such a good boy." And he was excellent. So much so, that Jim was willing to finally keep to a bargain he'd made. All it needed was that final push, and fuck, yes, he looked so good.

 "There, see, wasn't so hard, was it?" Jim teased, teaching his fingers round the base, shivering slightly himself. Oh what he'd give to just pull it out and fuck him all over again, feel how loose and sloppy he would be. Little tease. But no, this was about Sebastian now. "Can you turn over for me, darling? You've done so well, I just need you on your back." It would hurt, and Jim knew that, but he hoped his pleasure would take his mind off it. And when he had complied, because in the end he always would, Jim spared little time in dropping down and taking Seb's painfully hard cock into his mouth.


	40. SEB

When your psychotic boyfriend is ramming impossibly large things into your arsehole, it’s suggested that you think calming thoughts and relax as much as humanly possible.

But Sebastian couldn’t relax, perversely enjoying a push against the plug now and then, like tonguing a loose tooth, the achy, itchy feel of bearing down on something so unyielding. It felt oddly taboo – like taking a shit, but with none of the filth, just the base enjoyment of release, mixed, of course, with the exquisite, unnerving pain of being stretched far beyond the norm.

By the time he’d hit the halfway mark, though, words had left him, and he communicated in little panting breaths, dripping in sweat. His cock dripped, too, copiously, and throughout this whole process, Jim was kind enough to stroke it for him, to keep him awake and hungry, to keep the growl in his tiger throat.

By the last quarter, though, other than that the desperate, keening desire to cum, and the very real feelings of pain that coursed through his body, Sebastian Moran barely seemed to register what was happening to him. He’d launched so far into subspace that he wasn’t altogether sure he’d be able to find his way back.

Bouncing back from this experience would not be simple, that much he knew.

He was half out of his mind when Jim finally pushed the plug flush into his hole, the flat end of it vulgar and showing, impossible to miss. Jim eyed it like a kid on Christmas day, and Seb could tell by the look on his face and the rise of his cock that his boss was contemplating some particularly thrilling cruelty.

Seb braced himself until the moment passed, and then wondered how long Jim would make him stay like this until he was allowed to cum.

The sniper could feel his heartbeat in his ears, but it felt stronger in his hole, pounding against the plug, begging for mercy.

Jim told him to turn over onto his back, and so he did, gingerly, feeling for all the world that one quick move could ruin him for life. He eased himself down into the bloody sheets, now drying an unfortunate shade of brown, and silently begged for release, over and over again.

For the second time that night, Jim would hear his prayers, but this time, there would be no slight-of-hand. He took Seb’s cock into his mouth and looked up at him, brown eyes intense, watching his reaction, shifting down every now and then to push the plug in a little farther. Seb wouldn’t last long like this. Couldn’t last long, could he?

He’d done everything Jim asked, and then some.

He trembled, so close, just one nod away from paradise…

“Jim, please…” voice rasping and dry. “Please, oh god, please may I cum?” 


	41. JIM

Oh Sebastian, he was always such a good boy. Jim didn't know how he could ever contemplate getting rid of him. He was the perfect pet in every sense, so willing to do as he was told, so eager to please. His manners seemed to be getting better as well, and he heard him ask again, beg like the little bitch that he was for his release. But he didn't push it, the sign of a good pet. He was still being respectful after all he had been put through. Bless his poor soul. 

Confirmation came rather quickly, Jim's simple hum all that was needed. He knew Seb would understand. Well, that, or he would take the increased pace of his sucks as a sign. He bobbed his heart slightly, wanting to give Sebastian all of the pleasure he deserved. He took him deep, tongue adding friction to the warm skin, teasing and tormenting. He stayed there even as Sebby came, took him deep one last time so he could feel it as he swallowed round him, taking in every drop he had to offer. 

He hated it really; the taste, the texture, it was all revolting. But it was for Sebastian, for how good he had been, so he gave him what he knew he wanted. 

And when he started to come down, Jim pulled away. Slowly, he moved to lay beside him, holding him close, almost cradling him as he shivered in the aftermath of his orgasm. He whispered soft endearments, gentle words to try and calm him, bring him back to the present. A few kisses were pressed to his forehead, his cheek, his lips. It would take a while for him to get back to himself again, but Jim wasn't going to just leave him. If he was honest with himself, he probably liked this part the most.


	42. SEB

Jim’s hum was all the permission Seb needed to finally, _finally_ truly let go, and it was all bliss and heaven, a shiver arching his spine, his toes stretching out, his voice sighing deeply – a sigh for this most perfect, most anticipated climax, not a scream because Sebby had run out of screams long ago. His legs tensed when he came, arse spasming, still, against that goddamned plug, and his breath hitched, ragged. Delicious relief washed over him in waves, washing over all the pain and suffering of the day.

His trembling hands had tugged on Jim’s hair as his boss sucked him, his gorgeously obscene mouth wrapped around him, and when Seb came, oh, it was lovely, watching Jim gulp and swallow.

Sebastian was touched. He knew, intimately, how Jim felt about that sort of thing…

The soft words and whispers that came after, the gentle kisses and small laughs, the reveling at the faultless beauty of one other, this was the thing they never talked about. This was what happened when they stopped being Jim and Seb: villain & henchman/boss & employee/criminal & sniper – and just let themselves be Jim and Seb: deeply-damaged souls, constant companions and lunatic lovers.

Jim might as well have carved a goddamned heart into Seb’s testicle, pierced it with an arrow and engraved it with both of their initials, but it wouldn’t make the fact any clearer that they were, without a doubt, made for each other, together forever, until Jim saw fit to end Sebby’s life for good.

*

*

_*_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_< Five minutes later>_

“Oi, you little shit, would you mind taking this fucking monster out of my goddamn arse now?”

Oh, they were made for each other, alright…


	43. JIM

Jim never left his sniper's side, not even as he finally seemed to calm, even when they were just laying in silence. He would never get bored of these moments, of seeing his tiger so worn out like that, exhausted but obviously so very happy. It was marvellous. He let him have his time as well, both of them finally beginning to come down, pants slowing into usual breaths, Jim able to feel Seb's heart rate slowing as he brushed his fingers against the pulse point of his neck, just to feel that he was still with him. He'd been rather pissed off if Seb decided to go without his say so. 

It was peaceful, the moment shared between them, but, of course, Sebastian had to ruin it all. At the request, Jim looked up for a moment, as if considering if that was worth the movement, then just laid back again, nuzzling close to his tiger. "I do prefer it when you can't think properly, Sebastian," Jim mused, tone soft, tired, as if he'd be doing him a massive favor if he agreed to help, "You're always much more eloquent." Well, that, and he just liked hearing Seb beg. 

But, despite his words, Jim finally moved after another minute or so of relaxing. He pushed himself up and gave an overly dramatic sigh as he sat back between his sniper's legs. "Don't be a baby about it, Sebby," Jim warned, and that was all the sympathy and compassion he got before Jim nudged his legs apart and took hold of the exposed base. 

That said, he took it slowly, especially around the widest part, not wanting to do any permanent damage. But, even like that, it didn't seem to take half as long to get out. Baby. "See, not so bad, was it?" Jim teased, flashing a rather lazy smirk as he looked upon the plug before tossing it to the side, not caring where abouts on the floor it wound up. He'd have Seb clean up their mess in the morning. But, in that moment, all he was really focused on was how wide the thing had stretched his dear tiger. It was almost hypnotic watching the muscles flutter, trying to close back as normal. If he wasn't so exhausted he would have taken him again then and there. 

Instead, all he managed was a kiss to the tip of Seb's cock, and then Jim was back at his sniper's side, grabbing one of his arms and pulling it round him. "The things I do for you," he muttered into the strong chest before him, smile upon his lips, broadening as he looked up to catch Sebastian's gaze, "Think we should do that again in the morning."


End file.
